


The Enigma of Ophelia

by Toryb



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Angst, Cheryl Blossom is a Mean Bitch, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gratuitous Mentions of Shakespeare, Lies, Like so many of them, Secrets, Slow Burn, So the usual but with better lighting, Stonewall AU, all of them - Freeform, beronica friendship, frienships, jarchie friendship, just so much angst, mentions of drug abuse, southside serpents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-07-27 17:14:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20049646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toryb/pseuds/Toryb
Summary: Jughead stood on the steps of Stonewall Preparatory School, colloquially called Stonewall Academy, his few belongings stuffed into a bag that now lay at his feet where the bus driver had thrown it without so much as a word. Already that silver automobile that had driven him here was speeding off into the distance, kicking up dust as he stood rooted to the spot. Everything here was a pristine farce that made his skin crawl. Beautiful cobblestone walkways that lead to lush flower gardens filled with fauna he couldn’t name and trees with branches that hung overhead the lawn where students in uniforms lingered with open books as they enjoyed their final days of vacation. Even the signs were nauseatingly cheerful, gilded letters on banners proclaiming their excellence, a reminder of the privilege they all had. A privilege that had been forced upon him.or: The Prep School Au that only I asked for and am writing because I'm selfish





	1. Betty with a Y

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Bet you didn't think you'd be getting a new story at 9:05 PM PST only a few days after I finished When the Lights Go Out. Do I know that I have other WIPs? Yes I do. Am I writing this anyway? Yes I am. 
> 
> A few things of note: Both Veronica and Cheryl are going to be a little worst at the start of this fic. One of them is likely going to get better, but I'll not spoil the information about who that is. 
> 
> Anyway I'd like to thank the ever lovely @miss-eee who gets messages from me at 3 AM where I basically just say "But what if I did this" and she is quick to say "but what if you DID do that" because I have no better a cheer leader.

Jughead stood on the steps of Stonewall Preparatory School, colloquially called Stonewall Academy, his few belongings stuffed into a bag that now lay at his feet where the bus driver had thrown it without so much as a word. Already that silver automobile that had driven him here was speeding off into the distance, kicking up dust as he stood rooted to the spot. Everything here was a pristine farce that made his skin crawl. Beautiful cobblestone walkways that lead to lush flower gardens filled with fauna he couldn’t name and trees with branches that hung overhead the lawn where students in uniforms lingered with open books as they enjoyed their final days of vacation. Even the signs were nauseatingly cheerful, gilded letters on banners proclaiming their excellence, a reminder of the privilege they all had. A privilege that had been forced upon him.

He could still hear the Judge’s words echoing in his head, like a record scratched, skipping over and over again like a mocking cacophony of self-doubt. Sierra McCoy had looked down at him from her high pulpit with such a look of pity as she snapped his file shut.

_ “I’ll give you two options Mr. Jones. You’re a bright kid and I’d hate to see all that wasted potential just because you got tangled up in the wrong crowd. I’ve heard that you were accepted into Stonewall Academy with a full-ride academic scholarship. Not an easy feat. If you agree to continue the remainder of your junior and senior years there, I’ll give you a clean slate, record sealed, so it won’t affect you getting into colleges. Or I can send you to Leopold and Lobb. The choice is yours.” _

It was a harsh punishment, to have to choose his fate, all because he wanted to impress his friends by stealing a police cruiser and having an impromptu race with the Ghoulies to prove that the Serpents were not to be messed with.

Maybe that kind of hubris deserves to be put in the pretentious walls of a place called Stonewall. For a brief moment, Jughead contemplated taking all his things and running for the nearest Greyhound bus stop, catching it, and making his way to Toledo where his mother would no doubt be willing to shelter him from the law until he got a fake passport and moved to Canada. But there were guards patrolling the area, better armed than they had been during his brief stint in juvenile hall when he was thirteen, and he was nearly positive they would best him in a fight. He doubted they would be willing to let him escape and he was sure that Sierra had put a giant red target on his back the second he sealed his fate and signed his name on the admissions paperwork.

Gathering up his father’s old army duffle bag, Jughead steeled himself for what was inevitably going to be a torturous year and a half. His first step was to make it to the admissions office without being noticed but the old weathered flannel around his waist and frayed laces on his shoes would be a dead giveaway if someone took even more than half a sideways glance.

As he walked up the stairs, he caught a glimpse of a redhead with a guitar, sitting on an outdoor table with two sets of eyes trained on him, laughing and clapping as he finished his tune. God how envious Jughead was of that kind of frivolity. During his first two years at Southside high, this place would have been a dream come true. That was why he had applied in the first place and agreed to be put on a waiting list when they told him all the slots were full. A place with metal detectors and a crumbling school newspaper had not been where he wanted to go, but after his father had been kicked off the police force for a few drunk driving charges, there was no other place to retreat to than the dilapidated walls of Southside High and the sinking trailer park known as Sunnyside.

Before he could properly breach the high wooden double doors, he was bombarded by a red-haired girl who’s uniform looked doctored to be too short in the skirt, lips painted the same cherry color as the blouse she had tucked into the plaid. She was looking him over the same way Jughead might find a roast pig both appetizing and borderline disgusting. 

“Well hello, new kid. Judging by that duffle bag I take it you’re an army brat? Your Daddy a Corporeal?” the woman spoke with venom but her interest was obviously piqued.

Jughead shook his head. “Uh, no. He retired before I was born. Medical discharge.”

“Oh? Purpleheart?”

“No. Psychological stress. Is there any particular reason you’ve decided to ambush me with twenty questions?” 

He tried to cut around her but she quickly blocked his path, a pointed nail extended forward and pressing hard on his chest. “Be careful with that attitude, fresh meat. I’ll give you one pass since you obviously don’t know what’s happening around here, but I’m the Queen Bitch Cheryl Blossom. My parents own Blossoms Farm, which, judging by how much you reek of welfare and scholarship, you’ve probably slathered our maple syrup on your Ego microwavable waffles early in the morning.”

Jughead’s blood runs cold as he realizes that this school isn’t going to be as bad as he thought it was going to be. It’s going to be worse. So he stands up a little straighter. This red-headed princess doesn’t scare him, not when he’s faced down gang leaders with knives trying to skin him alive.

“You don’t scare me, privileged bitch of the damned. So how about you turn around and let me get my shit so I can fade into obscurity and leave you alone.”

Cheryl’s lips stretched out in a grin and she laughed in a way that made his stomach lurch. “Oh. You are going to be so fun to destroy. Toodles, new kid, can’t wait to see Principal Weatherbee burn that disgusting cap of yours for being flea ridden.”

She blew him a kiss and turned away, running outside to join the kids he had noticed before. At least now he knew who to watch out for. Frustrated, tired, and wanting nothing more than to lay down in the bed that was going to be his until he could find a way to break out or graduate, Jughead followed the complicated signs through the maze of hallways until he finally stumbled across the Admissions Office. Which he knew was the right place because it too was labeled with tacky gold letters that look like they’d been spit-shined by a newsboy in the 20s only a few days ago.

“Hello? May I help you?” A bespectacled woman looked up from her computer, adjusting the horn-rims so she could get a better view of him.

Suddenly apprehensive, Jughead sunk in on himself, giving a halfhearted wave. “Um. Hi. I’m Jughead Jones and I just transferred here from Southside High. I’m supposed to finish the second half of my junior year and my senior year here with you guys.”

It seemed, for a moment, like she wasn’t going to believe him. But with a sigh, she began flipping through her files.  _ Miss Smith _ , that’s what the name tag read. She looked at the open files and shook her head.

“I don’t have any record of a  _ Jughead  _ transferring in today but I could ask Principal Weatherbee if there are other-oh! Well, look at that. My apologies I hadn’t expected you to have a name like For-”

“Please. Just Jughead. I don’t go by my first name.” He cut her off before she could finish, shifting the weight of his bag and hoping he could be escorted to his room quickly so he could get some sleep before starting the first day of hell in the morning.

She frowned, but nodded. “Alright. Well, I’ll make a note of it so the teachers are aware that’s your preferred name. Tell me, Jug-head,” the name was stitled on her tongue, broken into two syllables that made him, “Did you complete the packet that was sent to your home? We don’t have much of the information we’re supposed to have on file.”

Jughead thought, lamely, to the kicked over mailbox that sat in the middle of Sunnyside, broken from where Sweet Pea had drunkenly run over it during the summer with his motorcycle. The mailman refused to even traverse into Sunnyside now. Especially after Hot Dog had tried to take a ride in his van.

“Uh...no, I never got the packet. I could fill the information out now?”

Ms. Smith waved him off, picking up a small packet and stuffing it in a bag. In bright letters, it said  _ Welcome to Stonewall! _ with their stag printed on the front. “Finish it tonight and make sure to get it back to me by morning. I’m sure you’re eager to get to your room and settled in. You haven't had the time the other students have. Inside this bag, you’ll find two uniforms. You’re able to purchase more if necessary, and we’ll pass out a springtime set when the weather gets a little nicer. You’ll also find all of the information about the dorm rooms, how they should be kept, that sort of thing, as well as a planner and a copy of Stonewall’s rules and regulations. We’re very proud of our students here Mr. Jones, and you have to be among the best and brightest to enter our halls. We ask you respect that and don’t disappoint us. There’s also a list of phone numbers for free tutoring services and faculty office hours.”

Jughead nodded, trying to absorb as much of the information as quickly as he could. This place was mind-boggling already and he hadn’t even started his first day. He opened his mouth to speak but the woman cut him off again. “I’ll have you know that the dress code is in there as well. Your hat of yours is against policy and you won’t be allowed to wear it during school hours. Of course, during weekends and breaks, we can’t stop you but if you’re in the classroom, then you’ll have to remove it.”

Reaching out to adjust his beanie, he felt the sting of rejection that was tied so closely to what he had experienced living amongst the Northsiders for as long as he did. Except here that feeling would be multiplied tenfold. Only the elite of the elite were walking these halls and he doubted they would be willing to accept him with open arms. Already he was on Cheryl Blossom’s hit list.

“Please remove your hat for you ID picture. I’ll have it printed for you in a moment. Don’t lose it. It’s important that you keep it on you at all times because it is the only way for you to access our many facilities on campus. We have a pool, gym for the students, and quiet study rooms in each hall that are only accessible with this ID.”

It felt terrible, peeling back his hat and standing in front of the white backdrop she insisted he go to. After a few futile efforts at fixing his hair flat, Jughead accepted that this was just another piece of proof that his time here was going to be an unholy nightmare. The flash blurred his vision but soon enough he had the little plastic card thrust into his hand after it had been meticulously placed in a hard plastic outer shell.

“Wonderful. Now, I’ll page your roommate and he can escort you to your chambers. You will be living in Hamlet Hall with one Archibald Andrews. Well, lucky you. Captain of the football team.” She turns to the microphone and presses the button. He can hear her voice echoing over the intercom. “Archie Andrews please come to the Admissions Office, your new roommate has arrived and will need to be escorted around campus.”

She turns back to him with a smile. “He’ll be on his way momentarily, I am sure.”

Star football player. Of course, that would be his luck. Not only does he have to share a room with anyone, but it had to be a sweaty lug head who probably got into Stonewall because he could throw a ball impeccably well and his father was bathing in $100 bills.

As if the day couldn’t get any worse, the boy who walked through the doors was the same one he had seen before playing guitar on the front lawn, the one who Cheryl Blossom had stalked towards after their awkward hallway encounter. The powers that be truly were having a field day with him today.

The boy was tall, thick like a football player should be, shaped almost the same way his father could have been before all the alcohol started to stick to his middle. But it was his hair that was the most shocking. Such a brilliant red that it looked like painted flames coming straight from his head, not the same sort of blood red that Cheryl Blossom had swung over her shoulder in an attempt to hit him. He was in his uniform and Jughead was immediately nauseated by the knowledge that he took would be stuffed into that outfit so he could color coordinate with the rest of his classmates. He couldn’t remember the last time he had worn anything that wasn’t flannel and a white tank top. Maybe he could still get away with suspenders.

Archie Andrews did the unthinkable when he pulled him into a quick hug and smacked his back like one of those scenes in teen dramas where the homoerotic jocks greet each other before a round of practice. Stiffening, Jughead ducked out of his touch and offered his hand instead. They exchanged an awkward and sort of sweaty handshake that suited him much better than an impromptu cuddle session in the Admissions Office.

“Nice to meet you, man. I was worried about who they were going to replace Moose. Though it was kind of nice living on my own for a little while. I could play music as late as I wanted.”

“You mean until quiet hours, Mr. Andrews?” the clerk asked, adjusting her spectacles so he could see the raise of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows.

Archie beamed, the sort of charming small-town smile that got you far in a place like Riverdale. “Of course, Ms. Smith. You know I’m perfectly respectable of all the rules of our fine establishment.”

She snorted but turned back to her work without so much as another word. Archie hoisted one of Jughead’s bags over his shoulder with ease, offering him a smile and waved him off before he could even begin to argue that he was perfectly capable of carrying two bags himself, but they were already walking down the hallway in the direction of what must be Hamlet Hall.

“She’s just mad they caught me sneaking into the girl’s dormitory during break. How was I supposed to know the no fraternizing rule still applied when we weren’t in school?”

Archie didn’t exactly look like the kind of person who knew what the word fraternizing meant and Jughead suspected that knowledge had come at a hefty price of a scolding session from the secretary. He could imagine her shrill almost Howler like voice berating him on proper school etiquette. Hopefully, he could stay under the radar long enough to avoid that. But knowing himself, and remembering the one time he had almost been expelled from Southside High after exposing an underground fizzle rocks ring run by a few of the teachers, that was not particularly likely.

His new roommate kept talking the entire way to the dorm room, apparently content with Jughead’s occasional grunt or one-word reply to encourage him. Whatever the guy was saying, he was far too busy trying to take in all these new surroundings. It was insane how nice everything was. They walked by a computer lab that had him practically drooling. Every kid was on a laptop, typing away and chatting idly despite the  _ Quiet Voices _ sign he saw pinned to the wall (directly under one that said  _ Please Respect the Couches and Know Jesus is Watching _ ).

“Every kid at Stonewall gets a laptop assigned to them,” Archie explained as he all but dragged Jughead away from the window. “Yours is up in your room right now. I would um, like clean it first though, if you know how to do that. It used to belong to Moose.”

For some reason, Jughead wasn’t particularly keen on knowing the internet history of a guy named  _ Moose _ .

“So where are you from, Jug?”

Apparently, Archie was tired of being the only contributor to the conversation. Jughead was about to snub him, but something about that puppy-like glee had him biting his tongue and offering up an answer. “Southside. My last names Jones, if it helps.”

“Nah, not really. My parents grew up here, but when they got divorced I was six and I moved to Chicago with my mom. But I got accepted into Stonewall on a football scholarship and they have a really great music program. I’m going to be a musician. Write songs. That sort of thing. I also do boxing so as soon as I got the paperwork, my mom was packing me up and sending me back here. I mean, not that I’d never been to Riverdale before. I’m really close with my dad.”

It was nice, to not be immediately recognized by his last name, the one linked to the disgraced Sheriff’s son. And Archie was somewhat tolerable companionship even if at any moment Jughead expected him to sprout ears and a tail and go chasing after a thrown tennis ball.

“Here we are!” Archie smiled proudly, gesturing to a door marked with a large golden 23. The outside had a small whiteboard hanging from it marked with two sets of feminine handwriting. The first, written in purple was just a reminder about a date coming up Friday night. The other, pink, loopy, perfectly despite it being written with a faded EXPO marker.

“You use your key card and I think it’s your birthday that’s the pin. It should be in the welcome packet that Ms. Smith gave you.”

“Right. Sure.”

Cautiously, Jughead swiped the Stonewall ID card through the reader and punched the numbers into the well-worn keypad. It flickered twice before beeping and illuminated green as he heard the telltale click of a lock.

Inside was the exact type of fratboy environment that he had imagined two guys named Moose and Archie would be getting up to. There were clothes everywhere, including the bed that was supposed to be his and had been turned into a makeshift laundry hamper in his absence. The small kitchenette in the room had dishes piled high and a few flies circling the mess. Out of the corner of his eye, Jughead was sure he saw a half-empty box of condoms thrown hurriedly under the bed.

“Um. Sorry, man, I totally forgot I was getting a new roommate today or I would have cleaned more. I can fix it though, just um…” Archie stumbled over the open guitar case, zipping it closed and sitting it against the wall, “Give me a minute and I can have it done in a jiffy.”

Jughead sighed, rolling up his sleeves and grabbing the pile of clothes on his bad and sliding them to the floor. This wasn’t the first time he had taken care of someone. Hopefully, Archie could learn and not evolve into the man child his father was. “Grab a bag and throw all your clothes in it. I’ll do the dishes and sometime this weekend I can go buy bug spray.”

“Oh! I think they have it at the student store downstairs. Since we’re only allowed out on the weekends they stock up on some basics.”

Part of his scholarship involved a part-time job at the library as part of a work-study program. Two days a week and one weekend he would be put to good use stamping cards and relearning the Dewey Decimal system so he could afford to pay for other necessities. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t be starting until next week and until then he was on limited funds. Paying for some overpriced rich kid bug spray was not high on his list of priorities.

Instead of having to admit that to the football player who obviously had kind and loving parents, Jughead grabbed his earphones and went to the dishes, effectively cutting off the conversation before it had to continue. It took nearly two hours to scrub the caked-on grease off the pans that had obviously more than once been used to fry bacon until it practically formed concrete. The sponge was disintegrating from lack of use and they were nearly out of soap. In a weird way, it felt a lot like home.

He grabbed a piece of paper from his notebook and wrote  _ GROCERY LIST  _ in giant block letters before using one of the football-shaped magnets to pin it to the fridge. Whatever was rotting away in that white box would be a problem for tomorrow Jughead. Right now he was tired, exhausted, smelled like bus and bleach, and wanted nothing more than to see if these beds were any more comfortable than the trailer’s pull out couch.

“Hey man, do you want to come to dinner with me? There’s a big meal in the cafeteria every night and it’s actually pretty tasty. Not like Hogwarts level or anything.” At Jughead’s skeptical brow raise, Archie groaned. “Come on! I’ve seen the movies. I promise I’m not some weird idiot jock, okay? If you give me a chance, I’m sure we’ll be friends.”

Jughead sighed. Of course dumb and loveable was his fucking weakness. “Dinner isn’t something I usually turn down. Do I have time to take a shower first? I smell like public transportation.”

And apparently welfare, but that wasn’t something Archie needed to know.

He lit up like a megawatt Christmas tree. “Of course, dude! I have to go and meet my girlfriend downstairs, Veronica. You’ll love her too. I’ll save you a seat with the usual crowd. Just look for me.”

“Well, you aren’t hard to miss. I’ll meet you down there in a minute.”

If he could even find the cafeteria in this maze of buildings and interconnected hallways. But he didn’t want to ask for directions when Archie was already heading out the door.

At least now he could have a moment to enjoy the peaceful solitude and adjust to his dorm room surroundings. Jughead walked to the window, peeling back the curtains and blinds so he could stare out at the campus. From where their room faced they could get a good look at the football field. Perfect. No doubt his already rocky slumber was going to be now punctuated with loud whistle tones and male grunting.

He couldn’t deny how beautiful the rest of the view was. Stonewall had a gorgeous campus, overlooking a lush garden of forestry that any fairytale era witch would be thrilled to live in. He wondered how easy it would be to get lost in the never-ending maze of greenery. Maybe that’s where he would park up and do his writing, as long as he didn’t get caught by the guards.

After unpacking the few belongings he had, Jughead grabbed a towel from under the sink (one of the only remaining things left clean) and turned on the faucet. He let himself sit under the hot water until it started to burn his sensitive skin. The trailer park never got this hot and it was a luxury to relax his sore muscles even if the scalding droplets threatened to peel away the layers of his skin. The red marks would heal.

He stepped out into the fog and breathed it all in. There had never been this much privacy in his entire life. Maybe, just maybe, Stonewall would not be the nightmare he had planned it to be. Still, he felt guilty, guilty for having left the Serpents. Guilty for choosing the easy way out when he could have fought beside them. But that life, well it was not one he had ever wanted.

Maybe if he sat under the hot water a little longer the Serpent tattoo on his shoulder would slough off with the rest of his worries.

Wrapping the white towel around his waist, Jughead gathered up his bundle of dirty clothes ( _ he couldn’t very well shame Archie into being a more clean roommate if he was just going to leave his shit around like a pig _ ) and exited the makeshift sauna. Steam trailed after him and he was incredibly grateful that whatever fire alarms were in this room were not up to code.

“Oh my god!”

That was not Archie’s voice. That voice was distinctly more feminine. It only took a second before Jughead spotted the blonde girl sitting on Archie’s bed. Her hair was tied up tightly, lips dusted with pink gloss that glittered when she moved her head ever so slightly to the left. Her gaze lingered on him for a moment before her hands shot up to cover her green eyes.

“I am so sorry! Archie asked me to come up and grab his wallet and he said his roommate would be in the shower but I didn’t think you’d just come out while I was here and I am so so sorry.”

She was apologizing too much in a way that was borderline endearing if he wasn’t slightly irritated at having the first moment of privacy all day interrupted. Jughead pulled the towel tighter around his body and tried not to be embarrassed. It wasn’t like the Serpents hadn’t seen him in less. At least she could make out where his eyes ended, not being bloody and bruised to a pulp no less. .

He realized that this must be Veronica, the girlfriend that Archie had mentioned, and wondered how he hadn’t expected it. They were the stereotypical boy and girl next door.

“You’re fine. Sorry, this isn’t how I intended on meeting my roommate’s girlfriend. Definitely involved more clothes. Less wind resistance too.”

“Oh! Oh no, I’m not...no my name’s Betty Cooper. I would shake your hand but um…” She gestured to his towel, or at least in the direction of it, with one hand, the other still clamped over her eyes. “I’m afraid we’d be in worse trouble. You’re thinking of my best friend Veronica. Archie and I are just friends but I have a key to the room so I came to grab his wallet.”

Jughead frowned, eyebrows knitting together in confusion as he readjusted the grip on his towel. “And why exactly do you have a key to the room? I was under the impression that only keycards words for certain rooms.”

“Confidential information.” She replied all too quickly, but before he could let his curiosity dig a little deeper, she spoke again, “Could you maybe put on a shirt while we have this conversation? My arm is starting to hurt. And I’d like to give you a proper introduction.”

Jughead didn’t say anything but he was sure the gentle click of the bathroom door behind him was information enough. As he changed he wondered how a girl like Betty Cooper might have gotten access to the keys of every dorm room. Well, at least Stonewall had already offered him one mystery to solve: the enigma that was this pretty blonde girl.

He came back out to find Betty sitting in the same place she had been before, a bright flush on her cheeks as she fiddled with the edges of her blazer. In her lap was the wallet she had been sent to fetch and her eyes lingered on anything other than him as he entered the room.

“Sorry to meet you like that. You must be Jughead, right? Archie’s already said a lot about you.”

“Oh, has he? Exciting. What’s there to say when he knows maybe three things about me at the current moment?”

Betty frowned. “Good things. That you were really smart and you got him to clean, which I consider to be an extremely impressive feat. It almost resembles an actual room here, instead of just a goblin’s man cave that stinks like body order and teenage dreams.”

“You’re funny.” Jug snorted, flopping himself on his own bed. “So tell me, Betty, how is it that a girl like you gets keys to enter a boys room.”

“I thought I already told you that was confidential information. If anyone found out I could just leave Ophelia Hall in the dead of night whenever I wanted, we’d have problems.”

“ _ Ophelia  _ hall? Sounds like they’re setting you up for failure.”

She grinned, the flush on her cheeks gently receding. “No better than Hamlet. Guess they’re fans of the tragic Shakespearean Hero here. I’ll tell you how I got that key, if you tell me how you got your tattoo. I thought you had to be eighteen to get one without parent’s permission.”

“Well, you can get just about anything in done someone’s basement on the cheap.” He wasn’t about to start explaining his gang-related activities to some random stranger, especially one who was friends with his roommate. The last thing he needed was Archie asking if he slept with a razor blade under his pillow and stressing about if his roommate planned on shanking him in the middle of the night.

His answer did not seem to put her at ease as her eyes drifted anywhere but to the snake outline he was sure could be seen faintly under the worn cotton of his hand-me-down henley. Still, she took it in stride. “Archie said you were coming to dinner with us. I can walk you there if you need any help finding your way around?”

Jughead contemplated it for a moment. He could just fall asleep and apologize to Archie for having to skip out on dinner, but his stomach was growling in such an unpleasant way that it was getting harder to ignore. He wanted food. Needed food. And they were offering free helpings of it wherever the cafeteria was. So, with only the slightest bit of reservation, he nodded. “Is it okay I’m not wearing the prep school uniform to dinner.”

“Oh no! You don’t have to. Most people won’t be because it’s the last day of vacation. But a few of us had tutoring sessions or early bird classes that we got the jump on. So we had to wear our uniforms.”

“What sort of early bird class is Archie getting into?”

Betty laughed again, “He’s smarter than he looks but it’s an SAT prep. He didn’t do great on the first round so he wants to take them again with hopes of a higher score. He panicked and left the essay portion blank.”

“Yikes. But having known the guy a few hours, I’m not surprised.” He hopped out of bed, sliding on his shoes. “Where’d you say the food was?”

“Here. Follow me and I’ll show you.”

Jughead followed Betty through the convoluted halls, a different route than Archie had taken him from the Admissions Office. Hopefully, he would be able to make his way around tomorrow for school. Something told him no one would take kindly to him showing up a half-hour late to his college-level English course claiming he’d gotten lost in a broom closet.

“Is this where the classes are?” He asked with a frown, trailing his hand along the many bulletin boards. One caught his eye - a small pin through a laminated piece of paper asking for more writers at the Stonewall Gazette. He made a note on his phone where the meetings took place. Maybe if he got bored he’d pick up a copy and see if it was worth pursuing an extracurricular.

“Some of them. This is where all the English classes are located. I promise it starts to make sense after you get used to it, but I’d recommend leaving for your classes really early tomorrow.”

Jughead nodded, watching her curiously while she walked through the halls like it was an old haunt. “We’ll see.”

The closer he got to the cafeteria the more his stomach rumbled. Already he could smell food and it had been nearly a whole day since the breakfast of bread he’d crammed into his stomach this morning while giving a half-hearted goodbye to his passed out father. He wondered if FP would even notice the goodbye note he’d taped to the fridge and bother to call him to make sure he got in okay. The outlook wasn’t so good.

Immediately upon entering the wide double doors, Jughead was greeted with a cacophony of noise, teenagers laughing and babbling about inconsequential things while stuffing their faces full of the most amazing looking dinner he’d ever seen. He could smell the biscuits and gravy. Maybe they wouldn’t be as good as Pop Tates but it was something that didn’t amount to a dried box of crackers that had been left forgotten in an empty pantry.

He sees the brilliant red hair not too far from the entrance but he doesn’t need his eyes when Archie stands up and waves, beaming brightly and shouting his name. Betty laughs by his side. “You’ve been found. Come on. I’ll take you to get food after we get our seats.”

Before he could even properly get in his seat, Archie was already talking, babbling about how excited he was that Jughead had come and gesturing to the brunette in front of them wearing a beautiful set of pearls around her neck. Veronica Lodge, he said, the previously mentioned girlfriend.

“Nice to meet you,” she offered him a gentle smile, but it seemed fake with how obviously her gaze traveled over his somewhat disheveled appearance. Her nose scrunched just slightly and Jughead decided in that moment, that he did not particularly like Veronica. “What made you decide to transfer to Stonewall?”

Jughead paused, deciding it best not to open up his gang-related past when he barely knew these people, barely knew how they would react to information like that. “I got a scholarship. I was put on the waitlist for a few years.”

“Oh.” He could tell there was disdain in her voice, a gentle deflation as she studied him with more criticism. Archie hardly noticed as he began shoveling food into his mouth. It made Jughead hungrier. “Interesting.”

Betty shifted out of the corner of his eye, looking down at the juice pitcher and managing to fumble her way into a glass of orange juice. He heard her whisper, “Veronica, please,” but all other noise was drowned out by the thunderous click on heels.

“Well if it isn’t B and V, the homoerotic best friends of Stonewall Academy.” Jughead didn’t need to turn around to know that voice, the same dripping with venom tone he had heard before. God, this school was a nightmare. “I see you’ve decided to slum it with the academics now.”

“I have a scholarship too,” Archie spoke up, rolling his eyes as he took another bite of his ham. “You don’t have to be so mean about it.”

Cheryl laughed and patted his head. “A sports scholarship. That’s hardly the same. You’re well on your way to making us number one and crushing those Bulldogs under our heals. The Stonewall Does are excited to cheer for you in the upcoming game.”

“Why don’t you go somewhere you’re wanted, Cheryl?” Veronica snorted. “Far, far away from here.”

Jughead’s curiosity peaked as he looked between them, a poetic clash of fire and ice. There was a power dynamic there a fight for the role of Queen amongst the rest of the school. He hated high school politics and yet on his first day, he’d managed to stumble into a territorial feud bigger than the gang brawl between the Ghoulies and the Serpents. Briefly, he wondered how noticeable it would be if he picked up his things and ran as far away as he could.

“Oh gladly, but first I’ll be taking Betty with me. Cousin, I need your assistance with my homework before class begins. You’ll finish it for me, won’t you?”

Veronica actually hissed, “Betty’s not going anywhere.”

“I think she is.”

Ah, and so the dividing lines of their warzone had manifested itself as poor Betty Cooper. Jughead looked to her curiously as she gathered up her things and put on a cheery smile. “It’s okay, V. I promised I’d help. I, um, I’ll see you guys later.” It looked, for a moment, like she might wave to Jughead too, but one scathing glance from Cheryl and she had turned away and followed the redhead out.

“I hate her,” he heard Veronica whisper as Archie reached out to try and console his girlfriend.

But Jughead’s eyes were trained forward, watching Betty retreat after Cheryl like a lost little lamb. Well, at least Stonewall had already offered him one mystery to solve.


	2. A Swing and a Miss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! Look at me! updating something before two months has passed. Truly I am a miracle worker. I'm teasing. Just thank you all for sticking with this story and the lovely comments you left. I'm the worst about replying to comments but I promise I'll get to them soon. I've been trying very hard to juggle things in my life better, while also making some important decisions about how I want my future to go. Thank you all for being so understanding. Love you <3 
> 
> You know who else i love? Miss-eee. The beta. The myth. the absolute FUCKING LEGEND. Love that gal. You should love her too because she's also got a really interesting story working right now! If you haven't checked it out yet you absolutely should. it's called The Usual Order!

Jughead’s first day at Stonewall prep was not going according to plan. Not that there really had been a plan outside of making it through the day without getting murdered or publically humiliated. So far, he was one for two. But then again it was only third period, he had plenty of time to step in front of moving traffic and end his suffering immediately.

The Devil never slept and Cheryl Blossom had spent the entire night making sure that his status as a scholarship kid had spread like wildfire around the school, so quickly, in fact, that it was the only thing anyone was talking about. Kevin Keller, who according to Archie was the biggest gossip on campus, had picked up on the story immediately. There was apparently only a handful of scholarship kids who went to Stonewall, at least those outside of the athletics department and they were apparently immune to humiliation due to their inherent status. Most of the other scholarship kids knew well enough to keep it a secret. Jughead, did not.

Not that he really cared about being bullied. That had been most of his childhood, most of his middle school, and even a large chunk of high school. He’d met fists with Chuck Clayton on more than one occasion and even before he was picked up with the Serpents he had a big bullseye on his back at Southside High. It was more annoying than anything, trying to focus when all he could feel were stares and incoherent whispers all about how he of all people had made it here. It was only a matter of time before Cheryl went digging and uncovered even more fodder to fuel his hastily deteriorating reputation with.

“They’ll forget about it in a few days,” Archie tried to reassure him as they walked to mandatory gym class. As if his day wasn’t already bad enough. He had to force himself into a cramped room with nothing but testosterone, because apparently, Stonewall believed in a sound body equating to a sound mind. His mind was plenty sound with a forged doctor’s note getting him out of dodge ball.

“No, they won’t, which is fine. I don’t care,” Jughead said defensively, shoving his mandatory black loafers into his locker with the rest of his pretentious outfit. He was feeling itchy without his hat on, claustrophobic. His ego was not so easily penetrated by curious eyes when he had his trusty beanie wrapped around him like a shield. “But it’s fucking annoying and making it hard to focus.”

Even teenage boys were not immune to the whims of school gossip, especially when they were all packed so tightly in a changing cubicle. The outfits were just as horrendous as Jughead expected them to be, with the school’s crest on the gym shorts and t-shirt, where he was forced to hastily write his name, just in case anyone should forget that there was yet another reason to make him a mockery. He groaned gazing at the stag facing him. It seemed to stare back, with wide, hopeful eyes.

“I want to get the fuck out of here too, dude, don’t give me that look.”

The gym locker room, like everything else in this school, was too big, too pretentious, and too nice. It was a far cry from the unclean tiles that were in the Southside bathrooms. The toilets actually worked and there weren’t holes carved in the walls to stuff bags of weed so the teachers couldn’t catch the people smoking in the bathrooms. He was sure that if he looked up, the smoke detectors would actually be intact.

Most surprising of all was that his locker worked, and not just in the pretend way in case the staff of police wanted to raid the area from contraband. It actually closed with a combination only he had access to. It was like the kids here were actually trusted or something.

Archie turned to him from the locker across the way, raising an eyebrow and kindly looking at Jughead like he hadn’t just witnessed his roommate talking to the deer caricature on a gym shirt. “You okay, man?”

“Fine. Just preparing myself for the most degrading moment of my life. Out in the real world, they won’t make you go to gym class after sophomore year, so I had a few months of blissful oblivion. Besides, Southside’s gym teacher got busted for heroin, so we had some time off during out freshman year too.”

His roommate grimaced. “You’re kidding me. How come they didn’t want to hire a new one?”

“Um, did you not just hear me, Andrews? I said he got busted for hard drugs. Southside isn’t exactly the kind of school that attracts teachers interested in inspiring dreams of higher education. Turns out, he was giving the football players steroids too.”

“Yikes. That’s rough, buddy.”

“Tell me about it. I take it that’s not really a problem you’ve ever had to deal with.”

Archie shook his head and finished off the buttons on his too tight collared shirt before tossing it in his locker. Jughead felt a wash of envy and borderline entrancement as he studied the carefully sculpted abs. Was everyone in this school made from clay to resemble Greek statues? Had he stumbled his way into Nicholas Sparks’ newest summer flick?

“Whoo! Look who it is. I guess Andrews got himself a new boyfriend.”

The voice reminded Jughead of every tragically typical high school bully he’d interacted with over the past few years. It was no surprise when he turned to see a man who had hopped right out of Cheryls’ manifestation of the damned social hierarchy.

“Fuck off, Reggie,” Archie said as he shrugged on his shirt. “No one wants you here.”

“Your status on the football team might keep you safe, but your little twink here isn’t so lucky. He’s just another shit out of luck scholarship kid. What’s your name? If Archie’s going to take you to prom, then I should know who’s going to be the write-in prom queen ballot.”

“Wow, so I take it you’re not often accused of being incredibly eloquent,” Jughead rolled his eyes, pulling on his shirt and sitting on the bench so he could lace up his shoes. “Can you spell scholarship or are you just repeating big words you’ve heard in the hallways to justify actually being accepted here?”

Reggie’s nostrils flared and Jughead knew he’d hit a button. It wasn’t too hard to find with big lugs like that. He was good at finding the weak point, and it was the only thing that hadn’t killed him when he was running with the Serpents. They valued his perception. It wasn’t looking like it would be a particularly good thing to possess here at Stonewall though.

Balled up fists told him that Reggie was about to swing, and swing hard, but before Archie could throw himself between them or Jughead could pick up the nearest object not bolted to the ground and use it as a knife, the PE teacher blew his whistle.

“You just got saved by the whistle, Dickhead. You better watch yourself out there.” Reggie pushed him on the way out, a few of his cronies following behind.

“So original, Reggie. I absolutely have no heard that one before.” Jughead rolled his eyes, tying his shoelace and turning to Archie. “He always so testosterone aggressive?”

His roommate shrugged as they made their way into the cluster fuck congregation of boys ready to sweat our their adrenaline. “He’s not a bad dude underneath it all, but he’s just pissed because I beat him out for Captain of the football team this year.”

“Yikes. So a pissing competition gone wrong?”

“Yeah. I guess that’s one way to put it.”

Physical Education, Jughead quickly learned, was not the Co-Ed experience he had at Southside, where they could only afford one gym teacher and the girls were awkwardly running laps while the boys belted each other with whatever objects had been scrapped out of the backroom. The girls had their own teacher, who was currently working with them on the tennis field because yes, of course, Stonewall had a tennis field, and a nice one at that.

That wasn’t the only thing that surprised him, though. There were soccer courts and baseball fields, an athlete’s wet dream in a blacktop jungle. When his eyes went wide at the sight of the pool, Archie casually mentioned to him that there was an outdoor and an indoor one, used for different times of the year. Basketball courts were in use by a few of the girls who didn’t seem too interested in smacking around a tennis ball with their cohorts.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jughead saw that fiery swatch of red hair, sitting up high on the bleachers with her goons flanking either side. Leave it to Cheryl Blossom to manage to get out of PE just by looking fabulous.

But a few feet away, he was distracted again, by that signature blonde ponytail standing beside Veronica. She was swinging the tennis racket, testing it probably, because she was the kind of person who wanted to make sure everything was right. At least, that’s the impression he got in the short conversation they’d had.

“Alright boys, stop leering,” the coach called, snapping everyone’s attention away from the girls and back towards the inevitable torture that was gym class.

He explained that they’d be playing baseball today. Jughead relaxed, grateful for the news. This was a sport he knew how to play, and therefore one that he could suck at of his own free will, hopefully getting benched so he could focus on other things and stay out of Reggie’s sightline.

The coach puts him in the outfield first, which means that he doesn’t run after anything. Even as his teammates shout at him to grab the ball, he lazily moves, pretending to drop it once, twice, three times until the other team has made it all the way around. He ends up on the bench, which is exactly the place he wants to be, right until it’s time for their turn at swinging. At first, he goes up with a normal game plan. Step up to the plate, swing and miss three times on purpose, and go back to the end of the line and wait for the bell to ring. But of course, it was Reggie who was pitching.

The guy watches him smugly, taking a few steps forward. “We should all move in fellas. Jones is up to bat and he’s a scholarship kid. I doubt he can hit a ball at all. We won’t have to run much.”

He really shouldn’t let someone like Mantle get under his skin, but the guy manages to wiggle right under there like some kind of parasite, nipping and cackling until Jughead feels like he’s boiling alive. He should let it roll off his back. Just pretend you can’t hit and get out, Jones, his body screams. But the anger is roaring louder and louder until all rational thought is gone.

Suddenly, he’s grateful for all the baseball games the Serpents used to play. Sweet Pea made it his mission to get them all out with fastballs, curveballs, anything else he could manage. They used to joke that if Southside had enough money for sports, they’d be handing the Northsiders their ass every baseball season. Especially with Jones up to bat.

Granted they had been playing with old bats and balls they found either dumpster diving or stealing from the older Serpents. The red strings were fraying and there were plenty of piles of splintered wood still lingering around Sweetwater River. 

There was nothing more in this moment that Jughead wanted to do than wipe that smug fucking grin off of Reginald Mantle’s face.

The crack of the bat, the woosh of air, the stunned look on everyone’s face as the ball went, going, going, going, gone, right over the fence. The whole boy’s PE class stood there, stunned as Jughead lazily dropped his bat and began sauntering around the diamond.

“Should have backed up a little bit, Mantle,” Jughead couldn’t help but get a few jabs in, overcome with glee at seeing their shocked faces. “Sorry I didn’t warn you.”

He salutes before dropping himself back into the dugout where the rest of his team are waiting. After a few beats, Archie breaks out into a grin and pulls him into a headlock, laughing. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you could do that? Jughead that was so cool! Did you see Reggie’s expression?”

“I will have it burned into my brain for eternity, as the greatest moment of my entire life. Where I succeeded in conquering at least one evil in my Shakespearean Tragedy.” Archie blinked a few times, apparently trying to wrap his head around what his roommate had just said. Jughead just laughed and waved him off. “Forget about it. Now I’m going to sit here and forget about all of that while I wait for this stupid class to get out.”

“What are you talking about? You’re not even going to try out for baseball?”

Jughead scoffed, gesturing to himself. “Do I look like the kind of person who gives a shit about recreational sports? I’ll leave that to you. My goal is to keep my head down and get the fuck out of here, and keep my skin on and my ego intact all the way through senior year.”

Before Archie could protest, the coach was calling Jughead’s name. Loudly. For everyone to hear. He groaned and pulled himself off the bent, dragging towards where the older man stood. Now he was going to have to turn down this guy on top of everything else. This whole going incognito thing was not exactly working in his favor currently.

“What the hell was that?”

Coach Keller was a stout man with graying hair and an attitude that proves you don’t want to mess with him. He used to be the Sheriff, which was why it was even more surprising that he was allowing himself to talk to a boy of Jughead’s reputation. He was sure Keller must have been aware of the reason behind his sudden transfer to Stonewall Preparatory. It was rumored he was having relations with Judge McCoy anyhow. Not that Jughead was one to pay attention to dinner talk like that.

“It was called playing baseball, Sir. I thought that was the assignment.”

Keller raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything about his attitude. “I can see that. And why exactly weren’t you playing baseball before now?”

“We didn’t have extracurriculars at Southside. It was too much of a drug liability,” he answers plainly.

“Right. You understand how good this could be for someone like you, right? Scouts come here all the time. Well then, how come you didn’t try out for the game here?”

Someone like you. Well, at least the staff were as consistent in their othering as the students were.

“You see, Sir,” Jughead keeps his tone pointed. “I only started attending Stonewall a few days ago and haven’t had a chance to get my bearings. Besides, I’ve got no interest in playing sports of any kind, here or anywhere else. Thanks for the offer, though.”

He’s about to turn away, to leave Coach Keller high and dry so he can go back to fading into the bleachers, but there’s the sudden familiar woosh in the air followed by the most painful bright white ache he’s ever experienced.

And then, nothing but blackness.

The next time Jughead woke up, he was surrounded by bright white light, an intense pain shooting through his head when he tried to sit up. Everything was faded in fuzz like the static on an old TV. He ached, every part of him, but especially his head.

“Fuck,” he cursed, reaching up. There was a tenderness to his skull; a bruise no doubt forming underneath his skin. He tried to piece together what exactly had happened.

Looking down, Jughead realized he was still in his gym clothes, wrapped in the comfort of a scratchy blanket. The shutters were closed on his personal cubicle. Stonewall was forever surprising and perplexing. He tried to recall what the Southside High infirmary had looked like, only to come up empty-handed.

Oh right, they didn’t have one.

This time, he was smart enough to sit up slowly to get a better grasp at his surrounding and avoid aggravating his recent head trauma. Someone, probably Reggie or one of his goons, had thrown a baseball at him while he was talking to Coach Keller. Maybe if he was lucky, this meant a concussion that would get him out of any further scouting potential. If he was going to get into college it would be on his academic prowess, not tied to some sports scholarship the same way all these kids were here, tethered to a forever at mediocrity, sitting on the bench and keeping their grades barely above the minimum so they could get a chance at the major leagues.

That was not the life Jughead wanted. He was going to get the hell out of Riverdale as soon as he could, as quickly as he could, even if it meant hopping on the back of a bike and skipping out on some pretentious graduation ceremony. College could wait if it had to, until he had saved up enough money to go somewhere good.

“Hey, you’re awake.”

An older woman came in, wearing some type of scrubs, surprising him so badly he nearly shot seven feet into the air. His head was pounding as the woman sat across from him, pulling out the weird light doctors always use.

She asked him a few questions, smiling at the end of it. Her little badge said her name was Muggs. There were kind eyes and a gentle demeanor, something he was grateful for after his near braining on the baseball diamond. Make it one and a half for two today.

“Well, I don’t think you have a concussion,” Mrs. Muggs said with a smile. “Which is good. You must have a hard head.”

“That’s what they tell me.”

She laughed. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before, and I’ve seen most of the faces pass through at least once or twice.”

“I’m new. And don’t usually make it a habit of ending up in the Nurse’s office on my first day of school. Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. Just promise me I won’t have to see you around again for a while, Mr. Jones. Keep that ice packs and rest here for a few minutes. I’ll send a note explaining to your teachers about what happened. They’ll probably email you your assignments. Even though I don’t think you have a concussion, it’s better to be safe than sorry, so go back to your room and rest. We’ll have someone come check in on you in a few hours. You’re roommates with Archibald Andrews, correct?”

The fact that Archie would ever be referred to as an Archibald was hilarious, but Jughead nodded. “Yeah. Can I take a wild guess and say he’s the reason I made it here?” The woman paused and only offered a nod, a soft smile graced her features. Immediately he was suspicious. “Did he carry me like I was a sack of potatoes or a Disney princess?”

“Disney princess.”

He groaned. “Perfect. That’s going to dissuade the rumors. Thanks for making sure I wasn’t concussed or anything. Should I go grab my clothes from the locker room now or…?”

“We’ll have Archie bring them to you. I already let him know. You’ll have to reset your locker combination when you go back to gym class though.”

Perfect. Just perfect. He had successfully failed every single part of his first day of school plan and now he was going to have to go back to PE and figure out a new combination for his locker. Thankfully, the way that the school rotated schedules meant he wouldn’t be forced back into that sweaty mass of bodies and face to face with Reginald Mantle again until Wednesday. At least he could skip the rest of the day and hide out in his dorm room as he figured out a convoluted plan of escape so he could buy himself Doritos before the weekend. Ones that weren’t completely overpriced and didn’t involve cracking into his school allowed commissary budget.

“Great.” Jughead stood, a little shaky on his feet, keeping the ice pack held at the back of his head. Standing up made it hurt worse. Throbbing might have been a good word for it. The next time he saw Reggie, he was going to kick his ass.

Or at least show him up in baseball again.

“Thanks. I’ll get out of your hair now.”

“It’s no trouble. I hope I don’t see you around, Mr. Jones.”

The nurse waved him off and Jughead gathered the few things that Archie had dropped off, including his phone and his room key, thankfully. There was no way he was sitting out in the hallway wearing his gym shorts and an ice pack.

Exciting the infirmary, he realized that there were very few places in this school he could get to on his own. He knew where he lived but where was that in relation to the nurse’s office. There weren’t even maps on the walls. What kind of pretentious private school wouldn’t splurge for maps?

Most of the students were in whatever class they had for fourth period. He was supposed to be in his study hall right now, so at least he wasn’t missing much, but there was already so much else to catch up on. Both his Biology II and Pre-Calculus instructors had assigned homework for the first day back at school, and pages of it at that.

After what felt like hours of stumbling around in the hallway, Jughead finally came upon the Admissions Office. Hopefully, Ms. Smith would be able to send him off in the right direction. His head still felt like an entire swarm of angry wasps was living in it, rattling around and making him wish he could lock his head in a freezer to alleviate some of the frustration. When he opened the glass doors, he was surprised to see that the prickly woman was not alone.

Betty Cooper was standing there, no longer in her PE outfit, but instead in the mandatory girls uniform. She looked good in a green plaid skirt and he couldn’t help but let his eyes travel down. Her legs were long. Impossibly long and so cute inside those black mary janes.

“Oh, Mr. Jones. How can I help you?” Ms. Smith asked, breaking him out of his stupor. Thank god. There was no need for him to get caught awkwardly leering at the girl who’d caught him coming out of the shower yesterday.

“I’m lost.” He said lamely and gestured to his outfit. “I got hit in gym class and was told to find my way back to my dorm room but I don’t know enough of this place’s geography to do that well enough I guess. I think I can make my way back from here?”

The woman scoffed. “That Muggs, never really focusing on what the students need. It’s ridiculous that she still has her job at such an important institution but I won’t argue with the higher-ups about it. Even though I’m sure there’s something suspect going on in there.”

“Great.” Well, this was incredibly awkward. “So I’m just going to go then.”

“Ms. Cooper, you’re on your free period now, aren’t you? Won’t you escort Mr. Jones back to his dorm room? I’m sure you’re familiar with the location given your friendship with Mr. Andrews?”

There was something about the way she said it that had Jughead cringing for Betty. He was about to tell her again that he didn’t need the help, that he was pretty sure with a few more minutes of awkwardness he would be able to figure it out, but she put on that chipper grin and turned to him.

“Of course! No trouble at all. Come on, Jughead.”

It didn’t dawn on him to ask why she was hanging out in the office until they had started walking in a direction that feels vaguely familiar to him. But upon further inspection, he could see her brow slightly furrowed, and the pull of her lip between her teeth. She looked stressed and he doubted more questions would help ease that.

“So,” she said, finally breaking the awkward silence that had settled around them. “What happened? PE accident?”

Jughead snorted and took the ice pack away from his head. It was already starting to melt back into its natural form as synthetic mush. “You could say that. The accidents name was Reggie.”

“Ugh,” Betty made a face, shaking her head. “Sorry to hear it. That’s just the kind of person he is.”

“Annoying and a slave to his primal instincts?”

She cracked a smile and some of the tension eased from her body. “That’s one way to put it.”

They walked a few more feet before Betty pointed a little ways forward. “See that’s the nurses’ office right there. Everything is sort of circular at school, so it’s easy to get lost, but it’s also easy to find your way back.”

“Aye, aye, Captain Cooper the fearless navigator. Can you feel by the rattle in your bones which way is north and which way is south?”

She rolled her eyes but that smile was still there, and he dared to think she might have even giggled. “You’re a real comedian. Anyone ever tell you that? I’m just used to walking this way. I’m at the nurses’ office nearly every day.”

Realizing the information she had just shared, Betty began to backpedal quickly. “I just mean, for medication. I’m fine. I’m not sick or anything. Just normal stuff.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment. She seemed distressed about whatever it is that requires her attention at in the nurse’s office every day, and it isn’t his place to press buttons. They didn’t know each other beyond two awkward encounters at the behest of other people. She didn’t owe him anything, just like he didn’t owe her.

Besides, in theory, she was one of Cheryl Blossom’s minions, though not as thoroughly under her control as the likes of a girl like Ginger Lopez. He wondered how a girl like Betty got mixed up with the likes of the red-headed monster from hell. She didn’t smell like fire and brimstone. If anything, she sort of just smelled like vanilla and whatever body wash she used after gym class.

Her hair was still a little bit wet, not pulled into the tight ponytail he had seen her wearing the only other times he’s come across her. The ends of her hair curl up just a little as a few droplets bleed into her blazer. Jughead is pretty sure she was what people might call beautiful, in a sort of sad way. He’s not sure she looked happy yesterday either.

There was a dark cloud hanging over them as they walk, an awkwardness that wasn’t easily dissuaded by casual small talk. Finally, Jughead had enough of it, an unusual phenomenon for someone who lived his life in comfortable silence. But there was something about her that compels him to speak. She really was an oddity. Every word she spoke was filled with more mystery, every movement a potential clue as to what lies beneath her preppy school girl appearance.

“Reggie hit me with a baseball because I was better than him at a sport.”

She actually stopped in her tracks at that and for a moment he was worried he had said the wrong thing. But then, Betty started laughing so hard that she had to hold her sides and nearly dropped the book bag slung over her shoulder.

“You’re kidding!”

“I am not. Reggie attempted to murder me because I hit a ball better than him.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“I am not!” he defended, unable to fight back the smile on his lips. “I hit the ball and he lost his shit. That kind of testosterone rage? With a little bit more force, my brains could have been splattered all over Coach Keller. At least you’d all probably get the next few days off to deal with Reggie’s manslaughter trial.”

“I don’t think this school would close for anything. It barely allows the holidays.”

“Even murder on campus?”

“Even then.”

Jughead paused, looking up at the fluorescent glow of the lights above. They weren’t as mind-numbingly bright as they had been at Southside, and there weren’t short circuits causing potential fire hazards every two feet. The ceiling was even in good shape.

“Betty, can I ask why you followed Cheryl yesterday? How does someone like you end up hanging around an actual sea witch?”

She was tense again, looking around, her lip worried between her teeth like at any moment she was afraid someone might jump out of a nearby room and scream gotcha! Finally, she replied, “Cheryl’s my cousin. We’re bound together by familial blood. Second cousin, but still.”

That, perhaps, was the strangest thing he had ever heard today. Jughead choked on air, eyes wide as he stared at her, unable to fully comprehend what she had said. Cheryl and Betty were about as alike as water and vodka.

“I am…so sorry for that unfortunate circumstance.”

“She’s not that bad!” he stared her down and Betty laughed. “Okay maybe she is that bad. But family sticks together, you know? Even if we don’t always get along. Or really ever get along.”

Jughead didn’t pry any further, but he got the feeling that she wasn’t telling the whole truth about her relationship with Cheryl Blossom. Yet another mystery to unravel. Maybe Stonewall Academy wouldn’t be so terrible after all. At least he had something to keep him busy.

Too soon he saw the approaching number of his dorm room, the little whiteboard message now replaced with a note from Archie telling Jughead his things were inside. At least, he was pretty sure that’s what it said. The football player’s handwriting was a little difficult to read sometimes.

“Well here’s your stop Mr. Jones,” Betty smiled, gesturing to the door. “I hope you enjoyed your journey with Captain Cooper of the SS Struggle.”

He dared to smile back, nodding. “I would have preferred no other guide. Thanks for helping me find my way around. I promise that next time we meet that won’t be the only reason.”

“Hey, I don’t mind being a tour guide. I’m good at it. I’ll see you around, Jughead.”

“See you.”

Jughead watched her go before slinking off into his room. He kept the lights off as he crawled into bed, cradling his still aching head. Hopefully, Archie had enough sense not to come stampeding in. After a few more blurry blinks, he fell into a restless sleep, where his dreams were plagued with red and blonde.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on tumblr @tory-b

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr @tory-b


End file.
